The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-04-22

/ under the whistl:ag whiffs of the wind
and the driving swash of the rain, with
the whole noise OF the storm in his
ears, DIR. Trifulgas hurried on in the
direction of the house which, standing
in front of a wide heath, became more
distinctly perceptible as the wayfarer
approached.
1t was a singular and noteworthy
fact to observe how much the house of
the herTing-curer looked like the doc
tors ''Six-Quatre' at Luktrop. There
was certainly the same arrangement in
the front windows and the little
yaulted door at the side.
DR.. Trifulgas strobe on as fast as the
driving gusts of wind and rain would
allow. He reached the door, which
was ajar, pushed it open, and entered;
the force of the blast closed it behind
him with bang.
The dog outside howled or was silent
| by turns. as when choristers chant the
verses of forty hours psalm.
How very strange! 1t might almost
be affirmed that DR.. Trifulgas had
come back to his own place. This,
however, could not be- He took no
wrong turning on the road, nor did he
lose his way. No. he was certainly at
Val Carniou, and not at Luktrop. Yet,
how came it that his eye dwell on the
same low, vaulted corridor, the same
winding staircase, and the same mas
siye wooden railing, hand-worn like
his own?
He mounted the stairs and stopped
on the landing.
A faint light came from under the
door, as at the 'Six-Quatre.
Was it a snare or delusion. By the
uncertain glimmer of the lamp he
vaguely recognized his own room
There was the yellow sofa, and there
on the right was the old oak chest; and
there on the left was the iron-bound
safe in which he purposed placing his
100 fretzers. Yonder, again, were his
armchair, with its leather tassels, his
table with its convoluted legs, and up
on it, by the Pickering lamp, his own
Codex, still open at page 1877.
"What ails me?" murmured the doc
tor.
What ails youp Why, you are pal
sled with fright. Your eyeballs start
from their sockets. Your body con-
tracts and dwindles in size. An icy
sweat chills your skin. on which name
less horrors silently creep. Quick, or
the lamp will 60 out for lack of oil,
and the sick man die. Yes, the bed is
there-his own, one would think, with
its pillars and baldaquin-a bell as
broad as it is long, and the closed cur
tains with their large inwrought
flowers.
Can this indeed be the bed of poor
herring-curer?
Trembling all over, the doctor drew
nearer, pulled the curtains aside, and
peered within.
There, outstretched on his dying bed,
the sick man lay, with his head droop-
ing over the counterpart and his body
motionless, like one about to breathe
his last.
The doctor leaned forward.
All! what horrid scream was that
which rent the air and was taken up
by the dog outside with his sinister
howlingP
1t is not Wort Kartif, the herring
curer; but he, DR.. Trifulgas himself,
who is the dying man. He is smitten
| down with brain fever. Full well he
knows the symptoms-it is cerebral
apoplexy, with sudden accumulation of
serosity in the cavities of the brain,
and partial paralysis of the body on
the side opposite that where the lesion
exists.
1t was for him, and no other, that
assistance was besought, that 120
fretzers were paid! He who, in the
hardness of his heart, refused to at
tend the poor herring curer! 1t is him.
self, then, who is now dying!
DR.. Irifulgas raved like maniac
The dangerous symptoms increased
every minute Not only were all the
functions of relation dead within him,
but the beatings of his heart were
nearly gone, like the breath of his
| lungs.
Yet he had not lost all consciousness
of his deperate strait.
What could he doP Diminish the
mass of the blood by bleeding? There
| must be no hesitation or Dr. Trifulgas
would be dead man. Phlebotomy
was still practiced in those days, and
then, as now, the doctors rescued from
apoplexy all those who were not to die
of its effects.
DR.. Trifulgas seized his case of in
struments, took his lancet, and pune
tured the vein of his own arm. No
blood, however, spurted from the in
| cision. He frictioned with all his
might the chest of the dying one, but
found that the pulsations of his own
| heart diminished; he burned the others
feet with hot bricks, but felt his own
feet growing cold.
Suddenly his own duplicate self
started up in bed, struggled wildly iii
the last throes of suspended breathing,
a rattle came into his throat, and DR..
Trifulgas, with all his science, fell back
dead in his own arms
Whit! blew the wind, and swish
went the rain outside, as the storm
gradually abated
On the following morning a corpse
was found in the house known as the
''Six-Quatre, " the corpse of DR.. Triful-
gas.
He was placed in an oak coffin and
conveyed in great pomp to the ceme-
terry of Luktrop, after the manner of
the many he had already sent there.
AS for old Hurzof, am told the
faithful beast may still be seen with his
lantern relighted, securing the heath